But It's Better if You Do
by Lady Flick
Summary: Zuko is doing things he really shouldn't be doing. 'Let us toast, my darling, to the sweet, sweet taste of liberation.' Series of ZUTARA one-shots inspired by songs. CH2: Demolition Lovers.
1. But it's Better if You Do

_zutara. alternate universe__. blutara.**

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**THIS **came from procrastinating today. Before settling in to write a paper, I was looking for music to listen to and realized I had Panic At the Disco's _But It's Better if you Do_ stuck in my head. So I listened to it and...well, an **AU ZUTARA** was born. I don't quite know where I went with it, and it's based off the music video, actually. I suppose the premise could be turned into a multi-chapter fic, but I'm bogged down with _Acquiescence_ and _Sokka's Field Guide II_. Anyways, this idea just demanded to be written, and so here it is. I wrote it in about an hour, so it was definitely quick, and I haven't scoured it for grammar. But that's because I needed to get this done and over with fast so I can focus on this stupid paper I have to write! Curse you, addictive and irresistible Zutara fandom! er, Aang wound up not making it into this one at all. I got too absorbed in the Zutara, oops? ... Enjoy C:

**Disclaimer(s):** _  
Avatar the Last Airbender_ obviously does not belong to me.  
Neither does Panic At the Disco's _But It's Better if You Do_.

_

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_**But It's Better if You Do

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**

"You're leaving again?"

Zuko glanced up at the full length mirror, amber gaze seeing the door behind him where his admittedly beautiful wife stood at the threshold. Her arms were folded across her chest, hair pulled back into a careless braid, apron hanging loosely down her front. He nodded, continuing to fix the cuffs of his suit, attention returning to his likeness. "Mhm," the man answered absently, dully. "Another meeting," he added after slipping his jacket on.

Katara didn't believe him for one second and pursed her lips together, a frown falling across her features. He had been going on many business meetings as of late, and though, being a budding producer, networking was crucial, the woman found herself preparing and eating dinner alone more often than before. In fact, for the past two weeks she had given up on cooking anything altogether and opted for take-out and a movie during those lonesome evenings. She thought she was going mad with it, with him and his constant disappearances – Suki had mentioned something about this months ago about her own relationship, and before anyone knew it, Sokka was taking Toph to family affairs.

She could only see their marriage crumbling before her eyes and she _knew_ – _knew_ like she _knew_ Sokka couldn't live without meat – that he was going to illegal strip clubs. And, thanks to some careful sleuthing, she even found the one he had been frequenting as of late. Of course, she had no actual _proof_, and he happened to have a reason and excuse for anything and everything she threw at him (damn his silver tongue and quick wit!) but she knew it at the bottom of her heart.

"Why don't you ever bring anyone home to have dinner here, with us?" Katara offered, tilting her head to the side to have a better view of his face in the mirror – that pale and beautiful face of his that she _missed seeing in the mornings_. "You never have dinner in our kitchen anymore."

Zuko shook his head, moving towards their shared closet. "Yes I do," he answered dismissively, slipping his feet into a brand new pair of black Italian shoes. "I had dinner here just that one other night." The man paused, a thoughtful frown crinkling his forehead, "Yeah. Last…last Thursday."

"That was the night Sokka and Toph invited us for dinner," Katara deadpanned, eyes narrowing.

The man only blinked and let out a surprisingly believable chuckle. "Oh, right. God I'm sorry, I've just been working so much – I'm losing track of everything. Tell them thanks for dinner," Zuko said as he sauntered right past her and out the bedroom door.

"You didn't _go_ to the dinner!" His wife replied, following after him down the corridor and into the kitchen. "Zuko—"

He stopped mid-step and turned so suddenly that she very nearly walked right into his arms. Zuko's hands caught her shoulders with a tenderness she direly missed, and looked into her wide and paranoid eyes. "Katara. Would you relax? So I forgot a couple of days last week…and I didn't have dinner at Sokka's because I had a meeting, but the meeting got out early, but not early enough to make dinner, so I came home and had dinner here. Remember? I was home and in bed when you finally came back?"

Yes, Katara did remember, but she also remembered the sweet smell of her favorite perfume on his neck – the same perfume she hadn't worn in the past few weeks.

Zuko took her stunned silence as a sign that he had successfully allayed her fears, and kissed her forehead. "I'll be back later tonight, don't bother staying up, I'll probably be late."

Katara scowled as the door closed behind him.

_Enough was enough._

::

Did he feel bad about lying to her?

Sure.

Did he regret it?

Somewhat.

Zuko got out of the cab (he couldn't risk having his car be _seen_ at such an incriminating street), and strolled on down the sidewalk, his mind racing. Every time he is about to leave, Katara confronts him, and his heart beats faster and faster until it feels as though it will beat right out of his chest. In all honesty, he was surprised _she_ couldn't hear it _thud-thud-thud__ding_ against his ribcage like an ascending Drum of Doom. But he always managed to give her that pretty smile of his and slip away before his sweaty palms could give her further reason to interrogate. The man wiped his hands against his pant legs and came to a slow as he approached the cross street.

His eyes darted left, then right, before he continued forward and came to a stop before a large iron door hidden in an alley. He knocked once, twice, in a seemingly universal rhythm – _duh, duh-duh, duh, duh_ – and the reciprocating knock – _duh, duh_ – sounded before the iron gate swung open to let him in.

A mask greeted him, and he took his own guise from the insides of his coat and fixed it over his eyes.

"Back again, Mister Blue Man?" A lovely young woman donned in feathers and a peacock face crooned.

Zuko smiled in greeting, sensual and confident. "I couldn't keep away."

She let out a luxurious laugh and handed him a daiquiri from her tray. "Always nice to see familiar _faces_."

He took one sip of the daiquiri before the woman tasted it right off his waiting lips—

—And he completely forgot about Katara.

::

She was far from new to the sleazy places like _those_, in fact, Katara had, at some point in her life, been a _part_ of those strip clubs. No, she wasn't the woman on stage, she was a bartender. Sure, she had been scantily clad, but mixing drinks kept her behind the bar where no man could touch her unless she so wished it. How opportunistically convenient was it then, that the illegal facility her _husband_ was visiting so religiously was the one she had worked at all those years ago?

Red and white mask donned, Katara ventured into the not-so familiar haven. Much had changed in the past three years, but not enough so that people didn't recognize her when she stepped through the back door. Good friends still ran the establishment and were rather glad to see her well-known mask.

"Ah, and what brings the Painted Lady back to this humble bar?" The door man inquired, a grin forming beneath his dark raven face.

Katara returned his smile with a practiced one of her own, lips exaggerated with red. "I was feeling lonely," she answered knowingly. And the man laughed as he took the former bartender into an affectionate embrace and ushered her further into the place.

It didn't take long for her to spot her target.

How many times had she seen that blue mask of his not-so-carefully hidden when he didn't need it?

A devilish smirk crossed her lips then, at the sudden spark of a challenge, at the surprising electricity that coursed down her spine. Perhaps it was where she was, perhaps it was the liberation of being unknown, but Katara hadn't felt so alive in months.

_Let the games begin_.

::

Before long, his tie had come loose and his coat had been hung and Zuko was lounging in a booth with a pretty little trinket sitting in his lap, her long, long legs draped across his knees, bare arm dangling about his neck. She held his beverage for him, free hand idly twirling a lock of his hair. Her mask was all sequins and feathers, over-the-top, as was the rest of her costume, catching the light at every angle, but doing little to cover up. She smiled as he took a drink of the intoxicating mix, and lowered the glass to the table. "Would you like another?" She cooed sweetly, tracing a finger along his lips to catch the excess droplets of alcohol. The woman promptly sucked on said finger, grinning as his eyes followed her motion. "Hmm?"

Zuko shook his head, knowing that he'd eventually need to get back home – _to Katara_ – and he very well couldn't return smelling too strongly of alcohol. "I'd much rather have a taste of your lips, to be honest," he prompted, inclining his head to the side and giving the young woman a most suggestive grin.

She expelled a sigh of haughty triumph and complied, meeting his mouth with her skilled tongue, and then leaving him utterly breathless. "I'll get'cha another drink, sweetheart," the waitress said, running her fingers through her customer's hair before peeling herself away from him.

His eyes followed her as she left the booth and sauntered oh-so wonderfully over to the bar.

Zuko leaned back along his seat, absently flattening his hair down, and licking his lips. They tasted of salt and something sweet that must have been the drink and _lipstick_ but that didn't bother him much because it made him think of that young woman and her delicious lips and that _tongue_ of hers that worked wonders with his own. It reminded him strongly of the first time he stole a kiss from—

"Katara." The name fell from his lips in disappointment. Zuko frowned. He hated thinking of her when he was holed up in a place like…well, a place where cleavage was meant to be stared at, where skin often touched skin, where it was perfectly alright to walk up to someone and kiss them profusely without first getting their name – and then never calling them back. Don't get him wrong, he did _love_ his wife, in fact, he couldn't quite imagine life _without_ her…but the person who used to make him think of stolen kisses and late night romps about town had transformed into a vision in sweat pants and messy aprons. She used to be a vixen, but she reminded him more and more of, well…his _mother_.

Not that he didn't love his mother, but _that_ was an _entirely_ different kind of love than he should feel for his _wife_.

Zuko's frown deepened and he waved an impatient hand in the air, as if reaching for a nonexistent and bothersome fly. He was dwelling far too much on guilt and Katara and thoughts which meant he was too sober and needed a drink. Speaking of, where was that woman who had promised to fetch one for him?

A quick scan of the area told him she was busy in the arms of another man and he felt no shock or jealousy or any surprise at all. Picking himself up from the booth, the man made his way towards the bar and slapped a hand down to grab the bartender's attention.

"One sec, sugar," was the bartender's velveteen reply.

Her voice alone made Zuko do a double-take. Wasn't the bartender there usually a man? He peered over the counter and took note of the hips in full view, curving oh-so irresistibly as the bartender was bent over, sorting through bottles in the lower cabinets. From her hips, her waist cinched just right, so that the dangles and things from her bandeau top fell perfectly, tracing the figure women dreamed of. And then she straightened up and the dangling bells and things tinkled with the motion, and she turned around, revealing an even more beautiful frontal view.

"What'd you want again, now?"

His gaze jumped to her face – a white mask with red markings. By far the simplest mask of all, but the pale white of it contrasted so flawlessly with her dark skin, and her lips – plump and red and _delicious_ if lips could _be_ delicious (apparently they were because Zuko could have sworn he was beginning to salivate just looking at her). The man immediately composed himself and nodded, giving her that smirk of his, tilted up to one side. Smug and confident and devil-may-care. It had always worked for him. "What do you recommend?"

The bartender expelled a knowing breath, almost condescending. "Depends on your taste," she smiled, and no pair of lips had ever looked so tantalizing.

_Except one_, his traitorous brain whispered.

Zuko obliterated that thought.

"What if I told you my taste was whatever yours is?"

The woman with dark skin and kissable lips studied him with penetrating eyes that seemed so familiar…

"I'd say you'd better try your luck elsewhere, Jack," and she moved on to the next customer.

…

What just happened?

Zuko blinked in utter shock at her dismissal – were the women _allowed_ to just shoot him down like that? Well, surely they were _allowed_ to, they must have a right to deny service to anyone, but he had never, in his lifetime, been _shot down_. It was…humbling, if not infuriating. The man nursed his wounded pride and tried again when that beautiful bartender was free.

"How about you get me a daiquiri then?"

She surprised him yet again by leaving from behind the bar and trailing her fingers along his jaw. "How about a dance, instead?"

Zuko let her lead him to the dance floor and all he could think about was how he was not nearly intoxicated enough to handle that confusing woman – but _look_ at those hips sway. Her hands touched him, just barely, leaving fleeting and burning sensations all over. His shoulders, his arms, his chest, his hands, the way she'd so carelessly brush against him sent sparks from their contact. He had no idea why she affected him so, but when she looked at him with her smoldering azure eyes, he found that he didn't give a damn. Her hair was a rich golden tone, ringlets that framed her dark face. Her lips slightly parted, teasing him with her small smiles, beckoning for a kiss and yet whenever he'd move in, she'd turn away so he'd brush her cheek, her jaw, and he found that it thrilled him.

"You come here often, sugar?" She asked, raking her hands through his hair as the music slowed to a stop.

Her grinned, "I should be asking you that question. I've never seen you here before."

"Are you sure? Are you sure you're not just all caught up with the other girls?"

Zuko stared into her eyes, his gaze intense and unsettling, though the smirk never left his face. "I'm sure."

There was something about the way she ran her fingers through his hair that reminded him of turning around in the sheets, furious kisses against walls –

Her hand caught his collar and she led him off to a table, settling in his lap.

"How about a drink?" She offered and grabbed two off a passing waitress' tray. Two opened bottles of beer for the taking. "Bottoms up," the captivating woman declared, crossing one long, long, beautifully toned leg over the other.

Zuko held his own drink and admired the _vixen_. "Let us toast first, my darling, to the sweet, sweet taste of liberation."

They clinked bottles and took their drinks. The alcohol burned down his throat in one of the best ways possible and Zuko shook his head, sighing in absolute contentment and desire and thrill and when he looked back at the girl on his lap, he saw only her blue, _blue _eyes. And his breath caught in his throat because this girl was far too beautiful, and her eyes were just too captivating, her scent, her touch, all of it, everything about her, were dizzying and muddled his senses and all he could feel was his heart beating in his chest and all he wanted were her lips on his and he wanted to grab her shoulders and share heated kisses against the wall and between the sheets and in the rain and anywhere possible. She was so near, too near, and she removed his mask so she could properly kiss him and then—

His senses went entirely numb before surging through his body.

Her mouth on his was (almost) like nothing he had ever felt before, the way they shot fireworks through his system was (almost) unreal! No one (except Katara) had ever been able to elicit such a reaction from him and Zuko returned her kisses just as fervently, just as furiously, his hand dropping the drink at some point and instead reaching for her face, and her skin was so _soft_.

When they broke apart both gasped for air, but she recovered first, and that smirk settled itself across those (luscious, kissable, deliciously sweet) lips—

And the pale mask Zuko had come to adore fell from the woman's face.

His eyes widened at the sight of her, at the sight of _his Katara_ sitting in his lap with furious blue eyes that were so full of life and danger and thrill, and the hurt on her face was _masked_ by the intensity of their shared kisses and that was all he could think about. The way she was so painfully _perfect_ for him, and that she was that fiery woman all along. That was the girl he had missed so terribly, the girl he longed to find once more in someone else.

"Katara, I—"

She shook her head, standing up at once as she tossed down her mask and the golden wig that hid her dark locks. The woman, _his wife_, left the table, her hips still swaying so wonderfully, and how could he not see that at home? The way her skin was soft and unblemished, the way her waist was curved in just right for his hands to trace down her frame, the way her (long, long) legs were toned and everything about her was just—

"_Katara—!_" He tried again.

And he found her, about to leave, and he grabbed her wrist to try and apologize.

But her hand met his face in a stinging slap, and he let go and she disappeared through the door.

And he chased after her, but she was in the claws of the police and _oh shit_ the place was busted.

She tried to get away but they held on to her tight, and he called her name but his voice was drowned out by the sound of breaking glass and overturned tables and the rush of running feet and the _yells_ and whistles, and he was shoved against a car, wrists trapped in cuffs, before being tossed into the back seat of a police vehicle and he tried to fight his way against the door, but to no avail.

"To liberation?" A sultry voice said beside him.

Zuko turned to look at the car's other occupant and he saw only her eyes and a secret smile on her lips, and her tousled hair. He leaned back along the seat as the sirens went off, and he nodded, returning her smile with an utmost apologetic and sincere and painfully beautiful one of his own,

"To liberation."

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**Time wasted?  
**

_Reviews, Comments, Constructive Criticsm._  
_It's all very much appreciated!_


	2. Demolition Lovers

**Senseless Author Rambles;** _This stems from utter boredom and me sitting at a Seattle's Best Coffee in Borders book store, quite alone and incredibly tired and trying oh-so very hard to come up with another chapter for any of my stories. Any, really. I must have opened each of my Avatar documents, including the one for Sokka's Field Guide III which I have just started, and also the Harry Potter stories I've just begun, but inspiration was lacking for all of them. And then I watched this amazing video that promotes My Chemical Romance's newest album, and started listening to them on my itunes and well…this is the outcome. Enjoy C:_

**Summary; **_A one-shot inspired by _Demolition Lovers _by My Chemical Romance. This chronicles the Final Battle against the Azula and diverges from canon incredibly, but I couldn't help but think of Zuko and Katara when I heard this song again._

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**Demolition Lovers

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**

_Hand in mine, into your icy blues  
And then I'd say to you, we could take to the highway  
With this trunk of ammunition too  
I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets_

_._

_.  
_

The wind whipped about them as they all but flew across the city, bounding along the streets, their steps lithe and silent with practiced stealth. Katara felt her heart racing with every step, following after the dark blur she knew was the firebender prince she had grown so accustomed to. They ducked into the shadows, unseen and lethal, silent in their mission. Neither dared to speak, though there were a thousand words to say. She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling her airbender, the Avatar to whom many believed she belonged, and her lips tingled at the memory of his kiss – though it was not a pleasant feeling, only familiar. At the time she had wondered if he bruised her lips, crashing onto her like he did…

There was a time when she could have seen herself with him, after the battle, once peace was restored, when they were both grown and could live without the trifles of war. There was a time when she wondered if he did care for her the way she once might have cared for him, wondered if a twelve-year-old boy was even capable of such a capacity to love in a way that her mother once told her would make her heart flutter.

As the war waged on, so did the realization that they simply could not be.

"Katara."

Zuko's voice drew her from her thoughts and she opened her eyes, seeing his face in the faded light. He stood near, breath weaving through the loose locks of her hair. His eyes, amber, honeyed, everything warm and golden and beautiful, peered down at the waterbender, penetrating and searching, and the fractured picture Katara had envisioned of wise, innocent grey eyes was instantly replaced with something far more welcoming.

His breath stopped for a second then, and he stiffened, biting down on the inside of his lower lip, before continuing. "You're worried."

"Of course I'm worried," she whispered, frowning at his words, at the softness of his tone, at the way his eyes captured her apt attention in a way they did many times before, in a way insouciant grey eyes never could. "We're facing a battle that could decide the outcome of the fate of the world."

"You're worried about Aang. You're worried about him dying."

Katara said nothing, only lowering her gaze to his lips, watching them part just slightly as he took a deeper inhale of the cool night air. She was worried about Aang, about his battle with Fire Lord Ozai – if Aang failed, if he died, then the world was doomed. All they had fought for, all they had sacrificed, would be in vain. And yet, at the mention of death, it was not Aang's face that crossed her mind.

Zuko's warm hand caught her cheek and the touch was so welcome and comforting and flashes of a happy future that once might have been with Aang flickered through her mind, only with blurred faces. He tilted her head up so that her eyes had to meet his, and what she saw in their golden depths reminded her instantly of her mother's tales of princesses and love and happily ever afters. "I promise you—listen to me, Katara—I promise you, that once this is all over, he will be alive, and you will be alive, and all will be well with the world."

There was a sadness in his words despite the reassurance, a sadness that grew to envelope them both when his hand fell from her face.

.

.

_I'm trying, I'm trying  
To let you know just how much you mean to me  
And after all, after all the things  
We put each other through _

.

.

"_Zuko!_"

His body flew through the air, radiating blue lightning before skidding across the cobblestone ground, hunched over and unmoving. Katara's eyes widened at the sight of him, breath held for any sign of movement on his part. The prince grimaced, letting out a breathy grunt of undiluted pain and something in the waterbender's heart ached at the sound. She barely took a step towards him when his own sister barked out a maniacal laugh that sent shivers down her spine. Katara met the princess' golden eyes – eyes that in color resembled Zuko's and yet held a sinister and wild ferocity that would never ever be found in the prince's gaze. Katara fisted her hands, preparing herself for an attack, wanting more than anything to rush to her fallen friend, the boy who saved her _life_, but resisting the urge.

Azula came towards her, and lightning met water. Zuko had been right, Katara realized as they battled – Azula was off. She was slipping. There was something in the young firebender's eyes that revealed a desperation that was never there before, and Katara returned the princess' assaults with vigor, fighting not only for the peace of the world, but also the fallen prince. _Her prince_.

Katara dodged a bolt of lightning, leaping to the side and landing unceremoniously on her knees, having lost her footing on the uneven ground. She hissed as the fabrics of her pants barely served as a cushion between her skin and the rubble, knowing that the sticky liquid she felt on her legs would stain red, unseen through the dark cloth. She picked herself up at once, seeing Zuko's limp body in her peripherals, unable to blink away the image of him taking her death into his heart, the way he flew across her like an angel, a savior, a sanctuary, granting her a second chance without so much as hesitation when she had fought so stubbornly to give him his own second chance.

Azula approached, hair undone and falling in tangled rivulets of ebony down her shoulders, clinging to her face with sweat. Her motions were fluid and yet awkward, as though she was losing control over her own limbs yet maintained a certain grace she was born with. The princess laughed, the unsettling sound echoing in the arena, but her words fell on deaf ears. All Katara could hear was Zuko's voice as he promised her that she would live…

A fierce heat seared at her feet then, prompting a scream from the waterbender and she jumped back, stumbling in pain before falling to her knees, eyes shut with the white-hot torture. She knew her feet were badly burned, possibly beyond repair if she did not address her wound immediately, and she glared up at the approaching princess. There was a loftiness to Azula as she swayed towards the waterbender, mocking and jeering in that cruel way of hers, and Katara could only blink away the tears that dared to impair her vision at most crucial moment in time. Beyond the princess, Zuko's body lay still on the ground and Katara wished, more than anything, that she could at least be near him, feeling death hovering near, trapping and suffocating.

_I'm sorry_.

"Well, peasant, it looks like you're out of tricks," Azula taunted, coming to a halt before the waterbender. "Any last words?"

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Zuko—I'm sorry. _Katara staggered on the ground, fighting to stand, but the pain was far too fresh, too strong, and she only crumbled to the floor. "This isn't the end," she said between gasps of breath, arms trembling to support her tired and scorched frame, "this isn't the end. The world must end in peace, Aang will defeat the Fire Lord. Aang will win."

Calculating golden eyes narrowed in victory. "Perhaps," she said with ease, "But you will not be around to find out."

Katara closed her eyes, bracing herself for the fate that awaited her, wondering if happily ever afters were only meant for princesses.

.

.

_But this time I mean it  
I'll let you know just how much you mean to me  
As snow falls on desert skies  
Until the end of everything_

.

.

A flash of bright light grew behind Azula and Katara scrambled backwards, before summoning what little energy she could to bend the water around her in a shield as the flames licked towards the firebender victim. Azula dodged, the assault hitting water before rising to steam and Katara squinted through the haze, making out an indistinct figure where Zuko lay. Azula's sharp yell went unregistered and she started towards her brothers who stood on trembling limbs, face paler than was normal, eyes darker than was normal.

"Don't touch her," he demanded in a rough and husky voice that betrayed his weakness. He wavered on the spot, the threat falling flat at his appearance, and Azula only laughed at the attempt. Zuko glared, taking in a trembling breath to relieve his lungs. "I _mean_ it. She's not a part of this."

Azula frowned. "How are you even still alive?" She asked with little interest, regarding her own kin as a constant nuisance. "No matter, you will not be alive for long," the princess declared, taking on a firebending stance. Her gestures were quick and sharp, the precision and restraint infallible, and Zuko stood, unable to do much aside from watch her step through the stances, harnessing the core of her heat to her finger tips so that the danced with lethal azure static. "Sleep, now, Zuzu. Sleep like mother—" She gasped out in choked shock, as her lightning was directed into the sky, and her limbs jerked about out of her control for a moment, eyes wide in fear and confusion.

Katara was stooped low on the ground in a graceful pose, one that Zuko instantly recognized. He saw his single opportunity to take down his sister, and yet as he summoned the fire power needed to finish her a sharp pain shot through his chest and he fell onto all fours, coughing so harshly that blood splattered the ground beneath him. Katara lost control, collapsing onto the cobblestone floor as well, hopeless, useless, and Azula spun to face the water witch who had strung her about like a puppet.

"_You_," the princess spat out in rage, shooting fire at the waterbender.

Zuko saw the attack long before Azula finished the forms and with a burst of energy and much effort, he propelled himself towards the girl just as Katara did what she could to evade the flames. Azula simply delivered a sound blow into her own brother's side, sending him flying back towards his comrade. "You would give your life to save her," Azula sneered, staring at the two pitiful excuses for benders, "How far you have fallen, Zuko."

Katara immediately clung to her friend, grasping his hand tightly in hers and there was a fear in her eyes that was entirely uncharacteristic of the strong waterbender Zuko knew. Her face, beautiful and broken said everything that neither dared to say, unspoken words that did not belong to either of their lips, and he returned her squeeze, gripping her hand in what he hoped would be comfort, for that was all he could offer, though she deserved so much more than that.

"Your energy is depleted, you have no hope."

It was Katara's broken voice that dared speak out, "There will always be hope." And with Zuko's strength, she managed to stand, taking the firebender up with her, a single thought running through both their minds. Neither had enough in them to continue to fight, neither could last much longer in battle and all they had left was one shot. She gave Zuko a sad smile, understanding in her eyes, and in his golden gaze she could almost hear his apologies.

Just as Azula began her stances to take the two out in a single shot, so did Zuko and Katara moved swiftly through the bending forms they had practiced to perfection weeks prior. They shifted together, palms lightly pressed, limbs united with every gesture and motion and lunge and step, and a large blast emerged from Azula, and the duo fighting for peace released a bolt of electrifying lightning that consumed both the princess and her attack in a static explosion of massive proportions. The impact shook the arena, sending down the pillars and tiers and smoke filled the area and the two benders fell into each other, knowing without looking that Azula was dead.

"I'm sorry," Zuko whispered, hand still holding hers, fragile and weak, fighting for breath.

Everything around them crumbled, just as the princess had fallen, just as they had fallen, and Katara smiled that smile of hers that made him feel as though things would be alright. "It was never Aang I was so worried about."

He watched her, watched her blue eyes fade and flutter with her diminishing strength, and he cringed with the effort to caress her face, and he shifted close enough so that he might kiss her, wanting her lips to be the last thing he remembered before surrendering to the darkness, and he closed his eyes and only managed to place the swiftest of kisses against her forehead before both water and fire were finally consumed.

.

.

_And as we're falling down, and in this pool of blood  
And as we're touching hands, and as we're falling down  
And in this pool of blood, and as we're falling down  
I'll see your eyes, and in this pool of blood  
I'll meet your eyes, I mean this forever_

_._

_.

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_

**SHORT D: sorry.  
but it didn't feel like it was supposed to be very long  
neither was it my best writing,  
i might revise it at some point  
but for now i'm lazy :D**

_thoughts? c:  
_


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